


A Tigrefying Tail

by Alyndra



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Community: j2_reversebang, Fanart, Gen, Humor, On Set, Shenanigans, Tigers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyndra/pseuds/Alyndra
Summary: For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Jared Padalecki is transformed into a tiger on the set of Supernatural.Shenanigans ensue.





	A Tigrefying Tail

**Author's Note:**

> When I saw Kuwdora's [fantastic art prompt](https://kuwlshadow.livejournal.com/103911.html) in the J2 Reversebang on LiveJournal, I just knew I would have a ton of fun writing it! I lucked into claiming it and eight thousand words later, it's still making me giggle like a loon. Huge thanks to everyone on Twitter and at the First Draft Saloon who continued to cheer me on as I recklessly abused the tiger emoji at them for at least a month; you all rock! Plus, thanks to Jdl71 and Julia_Sets for excellent betaing!
> 
> My muse was being a willful princess:  
> Muse: Ahahaha Jared is a tiger, this will be the greatest genfic ~~ever~~ since Summergen!  
> Me: Uh, you know this is supposed to be J2, right? It’s in the name of the challenge, and the rules, and everything.  
> Muse: GEN! Tiger comedy non-AU platonic lifemates gen gen GEN!  
> Me: No, it’s gotta be at least a little tiny bit shippy!  
> Muse: I guess. Hey, you are commune trash, pls have this commune ending I made for you!  
> Me: I’m getting kicked out of this challenge and they’ll never want me to play with them again *sob*  
> Muse: …Ambiguously open to reader interpretation?

 

  


It was time for Jared to be on set, and he wasn’t.

It wasn’t that unusual for him to be running late, so Jensen didn’t pay much attention as the PA went to knock on his co-star’s trailer door, until he heard the blood-curdling scream and jerked instinctively to his feet.

Heads were turning all over set, but most of them had been busy with one thing or another while he’d just been waiting for Jared to show up so they could roll the scene.

That was why he was the first person running over. He was just that kind of guy. And the PA had sounded really terrified — like axe-murderer-level screaming.

When he got there, the 20-something was shaking like a leaf, back pressed against the door like something awful might come out if he didn’t hold it closed with his body.

“What is it?” Jensen asked urgently. “What did you see?”

“Th-this is way too far for a practical joke,” The PA half-shook, half-snarled at Jensen. “I can’t even.” Then he took off away from the trailer, running.

Practical joke would be better than axe murderer. Jensen took a deep breath, because whatever was going on, in this trailer was the last place anybody’d seen Jared, and then he opened the door.

The reason for the screaming was immediately obvious. Jensen felt like screaming and slamming the door himself.

There was a giant tiger on Jared’s bed, lolling his tongue out as he yawned at Jensen.

Jared’s dogs, who usually hung out on the bed at all times, were all the way across the trailer, looking nervous. But not like the tiger had been trying to eat them, at least. Small blessings.

Jensen’s brain started grinding into gear and he realized he should get the dogs out first thing before the tiger _did_ start trying to eat them. He held the door wider and tried to subtly wave to the dogs, which didn’t really work at all. He didn’t feel like the piercing whistle that usually got them running was in order here, because it might disturb the tiger.

Goddammit. _Why_ was there a tiger in Jared’s trailer? He wouldn’t have been surprised by much of anything as a practical joke considering it _was_ Jared’s trailer, but leaving the dogs in there with it wasn’t something anyone would consider funny.

Finally something about the wide open door clicked in the canine brains, and they bolted for outside, making Jensen stagger backward. He recovered and reached to slam the door — only it jammed on an enormous orange-black paw, claws delicately curving up into the sun. Jensen made a sort of undignified yelping noise and leaped backward.

The door bounced open and the tiger, not in any hurry at all, took advantage to push his whole shoulders into the door frame, neatly denying any possibility of that door closing again until the tiger felt like moving.

Jensen backed slowly, warily away — running would be bad here, very bad — and the tiger just stood there, surveying the set with a considering sort of air.

At least he wasn’t chasing the dogs, who were staying close to the legs of the growing crowd of crew that was now gawking at the tiger.

“Somebody call whoever’s supposed to wrangle tigers in this city, and tell them they’re missing one,” Jensen snapped out. “Jared’s not anywhere else?” If he was still in the trailer, he could be hurt, or…

The tiger was looking directly at him. Jensen considered three different plans for getting it to move. Then it stepped the rest of the way out of the door and skipped all the steps in a long unhurried hop down to the parking lot.

Then it walked right past Jensen, parted the crowd of shocked onlookers, and sat down right in the middle of the set, curling its tail neatly around its feet and looking back at them all as if to say, “Well?”

Jensen wasn’t watching, though. He had torn into the trailer as soon as the tiger left it, and in a panicked rush searched under the table, in the closet, in the bathroom, anywhere his six-and-a-half-foot exuberant co-star could have tried to hide.

But although it was luxuriously big for a trailer, it didn’t take him even a whole minute to be really sure that Jared wasn’t here. There wasn’t even any blood. Nothing, except some ripped up clothes kicked into a corner…

Those clothes were what Jared had been wearing since Wardrobe that morning. Sam Winchester’s clothes. “No,” Jensen said, in utter denial of this entire crazy situation, and then he bolted out the door and stopped, staring at the tiger who was still staring right at him.

The tiger wasn’t just sitting right in the middle of the set, he realized. It was all set up for shooting, red and blue tape lines where he and Jared had stood that morning for them to mark down camera angles and line up shots. He knew without seeing it exactly where his own mark was.

And the tiger, the impossible orange-and-black giant tiger, was sitting right square on Jared’s mark.

* * *

“Jared,” Jensen asked, staring deep into the tiger’s really big eyes. The tiger’s ears flicked forward to listen. “If that’s you, uh …” he still could hardly believe what he was thinking. “Turn around in a circle three times.”

The tiger promptly got up, turned in three tight circles, and sat down again. Well, as tight as it could considering it had to be three times Jared’s weight.

He had to be going crazy.

“Okay, well, how do I know you’re Jared instead of … some other tiger who understands English?”

The tiger started tapping its — his — front paw on the ground in an irregular rhythm. “What — Morse code? I don’t know Morse Code!” The tiger gave a disgusted huff at him. “How nerdy do you have to be to know Morse Code, anyway?”

The tiger looked away from him, pointedly. Their crowd of onlookers was still growing. Jensen realized he was staring steadily at Misha, who wasn’t even supposed to be in this scene, and then Misha raised his hand and said, “Um, I know Morse code.”

“That’s not helping your case, Misha’s as nerdy as they come,” Jensen told him firmly.

The tiger started tapping out something else, giving Misha an expectant look, and Misha translated, “My dick is big!”

A few titters escaped the still-in-shock crew. Jensen cut him off. “Alright, Jared, but I don’t need to know Morse Code, because it’ll be nice not having you chattering away every minute of the day,” he growled.

The tiger — Jared, all right _fine_ — got up again and headbutted him, growling back — no, he was purring, Jensen realized. And rubbing his whole side against Jensen’s ribs, nearly knocking him over.

“Oof,” Jensen groaned. “ _Why_ are you a tiger, anyway?”

* * *

It turned out Jared didn’t have the slightest clue why he was a tiger, and neither did anybody else, unless maybe the dogs had seen something. But if they had, they weren’t talking.

Which was a relief, all things considered, because one talking animal was enough. What Jared mostly seemed interested in right now was food, and the more red and bloody steak to be had, the better.

So, not at all different from normal.

They were on break while the crew scrambled to set up for a later scene that was just Jensen — the show must go on — and Jared was swallowing hand sized steaks one after another with gusto.

“How long are you going to be a tiger for?” Jensen wondered out loud.

Jared tilted his head at him in what Jensen was going to take as a shrug. Then he ate another steak.

“Because if they have to refigure the budget to account for feeding you, you know we’ll never hear the end of it,” he continued, more to fill the silence than because he cared. This time, Jared just flicked an ear.

Too soon, their crew had worked their customary miracles and were ready again. Jared tagged along behind Jensen as Jensen got summoned to the cameras. Everybody was giving them a wide berth: side-eyeing Jared as if just because he was a tiger now, he might suddenly decide to eat them or something. Jensen could just picture some officious higher-up coming in and demanding that Jared be caged up “for everyone’s safety and peace of mind” until he was back to normal, but that wasn’t going to happen under Jensen’s watch.

No, the best defense here was a good offense, and that meant getting everybody used to Jared wandering around exactly as usual. If Jensen pretended hard enough that his castmate suddenly being a tiger was perfectly ordinary, it would help everybody else see it that way, too, and nobody would see any reason to take Jared away and confine him.

Jared wouldn’t do well being confined.

On their walk from the commissary to the shooting stage, it seemed to work. Or at least nobody seemed inclined to tell Jared no, he couldn’t accompany Jensen on the job. Business as usual, that was the key — and if the crew was a little nervous about what Jared might take it into his head to do to them next? Well, that wasn’t all that different from normal, either.

In hindsight he should have seen it coming. He was in position, cameras rolling, lines coming automatically — but he was distracted, concentrating extra hard on the scene to make up for it.

Right in the middle of Dean talking seriously to an extra, Jared rolled over on his back behind the cameras and started batting his paws in the air like a giant demented kitten.

Jensen’s face froze for a second while he tried not to laugh. Then it occurred to him that this was going to be every scene they did from now until Jared wasn’t a tiger anymore, and he lost it.

“Cut!” Director Richard Speight, Jr. yelled. “Reset!”

At least Jensen didn’t have to explain anything. Rich knew what Jared was like. He straightened out his face, with ability born of long practice, and nodded to say he was ready to go again.

Jared had rolled back into a crouch to observe the effect he’d been having, and Jensen could clearly see his tail twitching as they prepared to roll.

“Jensen, focus! Ignore the tiger.” Rich waved his arms.

At least three crew members broke out into snickering. Jensen’s guest star looked nervous. Jared reared up enough to put a paw on Rich’s shoulder.

“Aagh — oh God!” he yelped, before turning to glare at Jared. Jensen wondered nervously for a moment if they’d pushed Rich too far, but he didn’t let them down. “Do you need to be banned from set?”

Jared huffed doubtfully, but put his paws back down on the ground.

Rich sighed. “I know you’ll be bored, Jared, but try to contain yourself. Please.”

Jared rumbled a purr and rubbed his head against Rich once.

“Of course he still wants me to use his name,” Rich muttered. “Tell him ‘Sam fights off the ghouls’ one too many times, and he’s all ‘Hello, I’m Jared, I’m standing right here.’ Tell him ‘There’s no tiger in this scene,’ he’s all up in your business… ‘Hi, I’m Jared.’ Yes, you’re Jared. I should have known you’d be just as much trouble as always.”

Jared lashed his tail lazily, still purring, and then slowly sank down and rolled over on his side, eyes half-lidded.

Nobody was foolhardy enough to try and rub his belly, but they _were_ able to get back to working on the scene, so Jensen was calling it a win.

* * *

Jared behaved himself for just long enough for them to finish everybody’s lines. Jensen was able to concentrate and really make the scene work, and finally Rich yelled, "Awesome, print it!" after the last take.

Jared had been waiting for the moment they were done, apparently. He uncoiled himself and leapt on top of a piece of the set, demolishing it with unholy glee.

“Jared! What if we’d wanted to use that again?” their props master scolded, hands on hips. “I don’t care how much bigger than me you are, _ask_ next time you want to destroy something!”

Rich just shook his head. They were all pretty resigned to normal-Jared taking out excess energy on harmless props. What was anybody going to do, fire him?

Jared’s tail lashed, and he shredded some more wood and metal with his powerful claws.

“Hang on, can you do that again, Jared?” the cameraman called.

Everybody turned to stare at him. “What?” he asked defensively. “This’ll go great in the gag reel!”

“Oh God,” Jensen said. “We should just stop trying to film the actual show right now, shouldn’t we?”

“Wait, no, I really think that this could be an opportunity,” Rich said suddenly. “How many film directors would give their left nut for a tiger that understands English and can follow stage directions?”

Jensen’s director side started considering the possibilities. “We could film an actual chase scene without worrying about a trainer getting his animal to behave.”

“We could! We could have him bust through walls, do any kind of trick you can think of.” Rich started waving his arms. “He’s still Jared inside, so he can actually _act_!”

“But we don’t have a script…” Jensen thought out loud.

“Give me fifteen minutes on the phone with the writers,” Rich said, determination filling his voice.

* * *

The next morning Jensen had a whole bunch of brand-new lines to memorize, including a lot of screaming about tigers.

It was a good thing, he considered, that he never looked at his lines till the morning of anyway. Less time to forget them that way.

Jared bumped his hand. “What?” Those enormous golden eyes were staring mournfully up at him, asking something.

Of course. Jared always liked to read his scripts as soon as he got them, so he could be prepared with what he wanted to do. But it apparently hadn’t occurred to the PA who handed Jensen his script that an oversized tiger with no opposable thumbs should be handed his own script. Probably they were planning on just explaining to Jared what they wanted from him once they got on set.

“All right, here, I’ll share,” Jensen told him. “Can you actually read much or are your eyes different?”

Jared huffed at him again; of course he could read. Jensen sat down against the wall and set the script out open for them both.

Jared tried reading, but he kept getting distracted by every little thing. His ears twitched constantly with sounds from outside; crew dragging things into place and bantering cheerfully with each other. And his eyes kept jerking to follow any movement, even the tiniest bugs dancing around the lights. Then he’d stubbornly return them to the page until a shadow flickered from the window.

Jensen got to the end of the first page and Jared was still only halfway through, when usually it would be almost the other way around. “Here, why don’t I read to you?” he finally suggested.

That worked much better, Jared didn’t seem to have any problems concentrating on Jensen’s voice. The story the writers had come up with was actually pretty good, considering they’d only had half a day. Dean and Sam were hunting a sorcerer when the sorcerer cursed Sam into a weretiger, and they had to continue to hunt him down despite the fur flying.

“You better retract your claws when you’re in Baby, that’s all,” Jensen said.

Jared gave him a look somewhere between _I know_ and _yes, Mom_.

“You can retract them, right? C’mon, let’s see.”

Jared held up a front paw and stretched out the toes; vicious-looking claws started extending from the tips. Then he relaxed and they retracted. Jensen’s own hand looked tiny by comparison when he set it against Jared’s giant paw.

“Are you doing okay with this?” he asked. “It’s gotta be a freaking weird change, man.”

Jared cocked his head a little. Then his tail lashed once and his shoulders moved up and down once: a shrug.

“I’m sure it won’t last forever,” Jensen said. “Misha’s been researching non-stop since yesterday, he’s got the whole legal department searching the internet for crazy stories of people turning into animals. Plus all three of our wives are working on this massive database of everyone you’ve ever talked to.”

Jared looked impressed and maybe a little incredulous. Jensen snorted.

“You don’t need to tell _me_ that’s a lot of people,” he said. “Trust me, I know.” He directed a mock glare at Jared. “If it turns out this is all because you got in a drunken argument with somebody or pranked them too hard…”

Jared gave him a wounded look.

Jensen sighed. “Maybe it’ll wear off on its own.”

Jared was studying his own paw again, with Jensen’s hand still resting next to it. Then he gave himself a shake, and gently tapped the script Jensen was still holding.

“All right, where were we? Maybe Dean should say something before they get in the car about Sam not clawing it,” he mused. “I think he’d say that. I’m going to try it.”

Jared flopped over dramatically against Jensen where he was sitting on the floor, and Jensen laughed and slung an arm around him. “I’ve got your back, buddy. Not going anywhere for as long as it takes for this to get fixed.”

That deep rumble started up again, already becoming familiar: Jared was purring. Jensen smiled, glad no one was watching, and kept reading out loud.

* * *

> “SAAAM!!” Dean was yelling as he ran through the woods. He didn’t know yet what had happened to his brother.
> 
> ‘Sam’ was, in fact, easily keeping pace with him in tiger form, loping along behind him. When Dean got to the car, however, they both put on a burst of speed which ended with Dean staring at the tiger now standing between him and Baby’s trunk full of weapons. The tiger was staring back at him intensely.
> 
> Dean tried to edge around to the right. The tiger moved deliberately to block him. He tried the left. The same thing happened.
> 
> “Aw, c’mon, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaimed.
> 
> The tiger swung its massive, furry head side to side — no.
> 
> ”No way,” Dean breathed. “You understand me?”
> 
> The head moved up and down — yes.
> 
> “Are you planning on killing or eating me?”
> 
> Side to side for no, but before that the tiger had —
> 
> “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Dean asked indignantly. “It was a valid question!”
> 
> The tiger rolled its eyes again, distinctly. Then it turned away from Dean and one paw gently patted the passenger side window.

Jared was using Morse code to tap something. Rich shook his head.

“Yes, Jared, we realize both Sam and Dean would know Morse code, but the writers decided our viewers wouldn’t find a bunch of tapping very interesting to watch,”

Jared tapped something else, which Jensen thought was probably offensive, based on the way Rich ignored him, clapped his hands and said, “All right, everybody, moving on!”

“Does everybody know Morse code except for me?” Jensen wondered out loud.

> “Do you know where my brother is? I gotta find him,” Dean said earnestly.
> 
> The tiger nodded, and turned in three tight circles.
> 
> “I don’t know what that means,” Dean told it, running a hand through his hair.
> 
> The tiger huffed, frustrated too. It paced back and forth a few paces, then rose up on its rear legs for a moment. It obviously couldn’t balance very well like that, but it put a paw on the rear window of Baby, looking at Dean as if to say, “See?”
> 
> “Hey, don’t scratch the car!” Dean protested.
> 
> The tiger thumped to the ground with another huff. Then it laboriously scratched ‘SW’ in the dirt.
> 
> “That’s my brother’s initials!” Dean said.
> 
> The tiger nodded, then tapped its own chest with a paw.
> 
> “You can take me to him?”
> 
> The tiger gave a little roar of frustration.
> 
> “Okay, well, if you can’t help, I’m going to have to go look for him myself,” Dean said. He tried to march over to the trunk, but the tiger blocked his way again.
> 
> “I can’t waste time when Sam’s out there missing!” Dean turned and started to head back into the woods, but suddenly a great weight hit his back and he fell forward onto the ground, tiger landing on his back and they wrestled for few moments — stretching out much longer as Dean tried not to die — until the tiger pinned him firmly but gently, lying on top of him to keep him still.
> 
> “Why are you…” Dean grunted. “Can’t breathe!”
> 
> The tiger stared intensely into his eyes, trying to communicate by sheer force of will. Then it sighed deeply and got up. Dean rolled away, coughing, and yelled, “Son of a bitch!”
> 
> The tiger scratched in the dirt. — J — E — R — K.
> 
> Dean’s breath caught as he finally put the clues together. “Sammy?”
> 
> The tiger nodded.

“Okay, but didn’t that get overused, kinda?” Jensen asked. “Sam could’ve just scratched “I’m Sam” in the dirt in the first place, and it would have taken less time.”

“Take it up with the writers,” Rich said, rolling his eyes. “They don’t want to listen to me. For now, I think we could use a few more takes of that wrestling scene before lunch, if you don’t mind?”

Jensen groaned. Even a tiger who was trying to be careful of you was _heavy_ , and a little terrifying. Sure, he might _look_ all soft and furry and cuddly; but Jared was packing some serious muscle, and in tiger form — well, it was nearly impossible for Jensen to move him anywhere he wasn’t intending to go.

Despite his grumbling and anxiety for his soft squishy human insides, he had to admit there was a special brand of crazy fun to it. Who got to go to work and wrestle with a tiger who also happened to be your best friend?

Plus, the sense of satisfaction he got when he did manage to pull off a tricky move that tripped Jared up was _enormous_. Jared popped back up looking all indignant and promptly used a front paw on Jensen’s chest to pin him to the ground, and then gave a little roar right into his face.

That was a hot wash of breath and sound and Jensen squeezed his eyes shut against it. Jared’s enormous teeth were the last thing imprinted on his eyelids. It made him really thankful this was his friend and not a real tiger.

“ _Easy, tiger_!” Rich said immediately, and promptly started laughing at himself.

Jared got distracted growling at him, though, and Jensen was able to shove his paw off and roll out from under him, hopping back up and laughing at the momentary fear he’d felt.

“Hah!” He threw a dance move… or two… at the cameras. “Now I’m back on my feet, just a man and his will to surviiive!”

Jared yowled along when the chorus dropped; it was only unfortunate that he was as terrible at carrying a tune as he’d always been.

* * *

“Hey, listen, our insurance provider just found out we’re doing this, and they’re not happy,” someone was saying to Rich as they wrapped up for lunch. “Do you think we can get all the necessary licenses in order by tomorrow?”

“Man, I am so glad that’s not our headache,” Jensen told Jared. “You want food?”

Misha caught them as they were on their way to the commissary, though, offering updates on what the research team had found out so far. They followed him to the offices where all the bureaucracy necessary to navigate a show through production and network TV took place.

“We’ve narrowed down our search considerably,” Misha said. “First of all, the full moon was last week, so for now we don’t think Jared’s a weretiger. Second, we don’t think Jared’s a sorcerer who could do this to himself.” He paused. “Jared, you didn’t do this to yourself, did you?”

Jared shook his head emphatically.

“Right, well, had to ask,” Misha said. “Moving on, that leaves outside action, either intentional or not. It’s probably intentional, although with Jared being the focus of so much fan investment, it does throw a wild card in; there’s a number of highly improbable situations that could arise with that kind of emotional energy being flung around, and we can’t afford to rule any of them out. But we think it’s more likely that someone intentionally cast a spell or curse on Jared.”

“Did anyone search Jared’s trailer for hex bags?” Jensen wondered. “Is that even how magic really works? I can’t believe I’m saying these words right now.”

Misha pointed at Jensen. “At least eight of the crew have broken into Jared’s trailer to do exactly that, and the answer is no, probably not, although anything is possible.”

“Witches don’t use hex bags? Are we even looking for a witch?”

Misha shrugged. “Witch, wizard, sorcerer, practitioner … people can call themselves anything they want. A voodoo doll is frankly more probable than a hex bag, assuming the spell wasn’t cast directly by in-person contact.”

“Okay… And do we have any idea who might have done this?” Jensen asked. “That big database our wives have been working on, that should help, right?”

“The difficult part is that mostly people don’t advertise being a magic practitioner,” Misha said, looking deeply annoyed. “Especially the kind who would go around cursing people. So we’re having to do a lot of research to even narrow down a list of suspects. It’s almost easier to start with a list of people mad at Jared — at least they tend to tell the Internet all about it.”

Jared’s ears pressed down flat against his skull. He looked, for the first time, like he was trying to make himself smaller.

Jensen dropped down to one knee so that it was easier for him to put an arm around Jared’s big orange-striped shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said, “They’re gonna figure out who did this and how we can get it undone.”

“If it doesn’t just wear off on its own,” Misha said. “Most spells like this are strictly short-term, a few days at most. Have fun while it lasts and don’t start worrying until three full days go by.”

“And if it doesn’t wear off?” Jensen asked. “How long could he be stuck like this for?”

“Worst case?” Misha raised a brow. “If we can’t find the caster and Jared doesn’t turn back to human on his own, one of us might have to start learning enough sorcery to fix it ourselves. That, or try and crowdsource someone from the fanbase.” He paused. “I want to reassure you that our odds of success would be decent, but also that we’re leaving that option in reserve until it seems necessary.”

Jared and Jensen exchanged glances, and Jared nodded. Jensen sighed. It was a relief to hear all of that. Jared was going to get back to his usual laughing, joking self one way or another. “All right. Anything we can do to help?”

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind looking over this list of names, just to see if anything stands out to you, that could be incredibly helpful…”

* * *

Afternoon shooting arrived without getting any closer to answers, so Jensen, Jared and Misha all had to report to set for the next scene. It was mostly talking as the brothers consulted Cas as to Sam’s changed circumstances. “What do you mean you can’t understand what Sam is saying, Dean?” Cas said, puzzled. “He seems perfectly clear to me.” He paused. “No, Sam, I don’t imagine Dean is deficient in that way.”

“You both suck,” Dean groaned. “Can we go kill the damned sorcerer yet?”

It turned out that they needed to file a bunch of unexpected paperwork with their insurance companies before Sam and Dean could, in fact, go kill the sorcerer, or film any more action scenes at all involving a tiger, even if he _was_ a former human.

“What the hell kind of forms do they even have to cover this?” Jensen asked. “Recategorization of Season Regular actor to animal actor?”

“I think they’re writing new ones on the spot for us,” Rich said. “Doesn’t that just make you feel especially loved and warm inside?” he asked Jared, who was starting to look dangerously bored again. Jared’s tail lashed a couple times, and he batted at a rubber prop knife that was lying on the ground. It flew fifteen feet through the air and hit Misha in the ass.

Misha kicked it farther away from Jared with a casual middle finger lifted in their direction, and Jared’s tail lashed again.

“Alright, so what can we do that’s not an action scene?” Jensen asked quickly.

It turned out they could just barely squeeze Jared into the Impala, although there wasn’t room for both him and Jensen in the front seat, so he had to crouch in the back. He was definitely looming over Jensen’s shoulder on purpose, Jensen thought.

Then they had all the conversation that was written for them in the script, but there wasn’t much of it set in the car. After they did half a dozen takes or so they started refilming and Jensen made up a bunch of lines about how Dean felt about his brother being a tiger, drawing on his own newfound wealth of experience on the subject.

> “And also, your fur gets _everywhere_ ,” Dean rambled, “I never thought I’d miss finding strands from your usual mop up top on all my clothes, but let me tell you it doesn’t begin to compare to finding orange and black every time I look. And it stands out against every color I have. I’ll have to start dressing in orange and black plaid and people will think we’re deer hunters from northern Minnesota.”
> 
> Sam listened, cocking his ears forward attentively, and then he leaned over the seat and rubbed his furry head all over Dean’s jacketed arm and shoulder.
> 
> “It’s getting on the seats!” Dean totally didn’t yelp. “Don’t think I won’t make your ass clean that once you have opposable thumbs again!”

But the conversation was inevitably one-sided, and Jensen was beginning to miss hearing Jared constantly cracking stupid jokes. It was hard, filling the silence all on his own.

“This is getting kind of old, you know?” he said quietly, not sure where Dean’s feelings left off and his own began. “I miss having you sitting beside me, you know?”

Jared laid his head on the back of the seat and sighed deeply.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “That.”

* * *

Day two ended with Jared still in fine feline form. They were making him stay on set in his trailer even though he and Jensen both usually went home overnight. Jensen was staying in his own trailer out of solidarity, and also minding Jared’s dogs. The dogs had more or less gotten used to Jared and stopped freaking out, although they still weren’t comfortable enough to go up and cuddle with him on the bed. The first night, with Jensen and the dogs in one trailer and Jared in the other, Jensen had woken with a start to hear something large land on his roof.

“Jared?” he called muzzily. “Is that you?”

Two distinct thumps, as though Jared was tapping his paw from up on the roof of Jensen’s trailer. How had he figured out how to open his door handle from the inside?

Nevermind. The question would keep till morning. “Goodnight,” he called, and heard one thump in return. Then he could hear Jared circling in one spot like a dog before his whole body thumped down; Jensen’s last thought before drifting back off was that he’d have to give Jared some grief over not being very cat-footed. Not now, but in the morning.

Tonight, he looked at Jared as Jared swung heavily around towards his own trailer, looking morose, and on impulse he asked, “Hey Jared. Do you want to sleep in mine tonight?”

Jared’s head came up, and he turned around to come up beside Jensen, purring and rubbing against his legs, which just about knocked Jensen over.

“Easy, you overgrown mouser,” Jensen grumbled, grabbing Jared’s scruff to keep himself steady. He knew Jared didn’t like sleeping alone; it was part of why he brought the dogs with him when he had to leave his family behind. “Who knows what trouble you might get into, left alone.”

His bed really wasn’t big enough for him and Jared’s dogs and an oversized tiger, but Jared stretched out happily enough on the narrow floor beside it. Jensen couldn’t see how he would be able to get out without stepping on Jared; he hoped he wouldn’t have to pee in the middle of the night.

Well, Jared would just have to wake up if he did; he wasn’t going to be doing any flying tuck-and-roll leaps over him at three in the morning.

On second thought, maybe he would make extra sure he went _before_ bed.

* * *

Fortunately for all involved, Jensen’s decision not to drink anything before bed paid off. He woke only once during the night, and when he reached over the edge of the bed he could feel Jared’s warm, thick fur steadily rising and falling with his breathing. Jared didn’t wake, and after a moment he drifted off again, peaceful and secure.

It was a good thing they both slept so well, because they were woken up at the crack of dawn with the news that the insurance hagglers had gotten a green light, and they were a go for shooting all the action scenes they could cram into the day. Rich and the other higher-ups had decided to shoot based on the assumption that Jared would turn back human at the end of three days, so they’d better get anything they really wanted to shoot today, before they wrapped.

Which was to say, they had a jam-packed schedule and the crew was working overtime to get one set prepped after another so they could maximize shooting time. They were still shooting till midnight on paper, which they both knew was all too likely to run until two or three am.

“We can’t find Jared anywhere, he’s not in his trailer!”

“Oh god, how do you lose a six hundred pound tiger?”

“Where would he go?” There were panicked voices outside their trailer.

“I don’t know, ask Jensen!”

The PA who was in their trailer with the schedules rolled her eyes, stuck her head out and yelled, “It’s okay, he’s in here!”

“Can you ask him if he’s seen Jared?” the PA who was supposed to be waking Jared up yelled back.

“No, I mean Jared’s in here!”

“Oh! Ok, great!” There was a slight pause, then, “Where’s Jensen?”

“Everybody’s here!”

“I think that’s our cue to get up,” Jensen said, rolling to his feet. Jared hadn’t turned back into a human overnight — belatedly it occurred to him that it could’ve gotten awkward, if he’d woken up to Jared lying naked on his floor — so all he was doing was stretching and yawning.

The dogs were circling the PA excitedly, hoping to get to go outside. Jensen was tempted to loop their leashes around Jared somehow so he could walk his own dogs first thing in the morning.

He sighed. No, he’d be a responsible human being and walk them.

 _After_ he got the coffee brewing. Priorities were important.

Jared was lucky Jensen liked dogs, really lucky.

Lucky that he liked Jared, too.

* * *

Jensen ran lines with Jared all through hair, makeup and wardrobe — Jared didn’t really need any of that except a hand run through his fur to lay it flat, and Jensen thought the girls were only doing that for the excuse to pet him anyway — and then they were shooting, running through the woods in a lot of chase scenes after the sorcerer, followed by an epic face-off during which the sorcerer started turning himself into a lion so he could fight Sam, but got stuck halfway through transforming when Sam and Dean tipped over his magic altar (so that they could put a bunch of prosthetics on the actor instead of hiring an animal trainer with a real lion, which probably wouldn’t have gotten along with Jared anyway).

After Jared got to thoroughly destroy a whole shack that the crew had built specifically for the purpose, and the sorcerer’s gory death spasms were all filmed and ready for CGI, and a couple small children had gotten to ride on Sam’s back to safety, and Dean and Cas tore through the blood-spattered remains of the library in vain for how to turn Sam back human, then they finished the whole thing off by torching the shack and all three of them stood there and watched it burn to the ground. The flames lit up their silhouettes in the night and made them all look orange and shadowed and the director of photography got all excited (they could tell because he was talking in sentences instead of monosyllables) and made them shoot it from several different angles.

After that, all the really critical stuff had been filmed, and it was midnight but no one really wanted to stop. Jared hadn’t turned back into a human yet, and no one was saying anything about it, but they were all wondering if he was going to.

Jensen thought Jared was wondering most of all, and it was making him restless and edgy. Instead of calling it a night, they all went back and filmed some extra material of tiger Sam being bored in a motel room while Dean was out chasing leads. The motel room was kitten-themed for extra hilarity.

”Isn’t it too much coincidence?” Jensen asked Rich dubiously. “They wouldn’t normally pick a place this…fluffy, you know?”

“What if Dean thought it was funny?” Rich said. “Going after a cat-themed sorcerer, or maybe they only checked in after Sam got transformed?”

“Sleeping with kitten-shaped pillows versus making Sam put up with wall art of a googly-eyed kitten as big as he is …” Jensen weighed, studying the art in question. “Yeah, okay, I can see it.”

By the time all was said and done, Jared had managed to shred both the offending wall art and the kitten-shaped pillows, so altogether it was successfully entertaining. But after they’d stretched out that shoot, they really couldn’t think of much else, so Jensen sat with his arm around Jared up on a scenic ridge they used for shooting sometimes, and waited for the sun to come up. Some of the crew went home but some of them hung around waiting with them; it had been about four in the morning when they wrapped and Jared’s first transformation had occurred around seven a.m, near as he could remember. The camera guys were showing their nerves by joking about if they’d be able to capture Jared’s tiger-to-human transition on film, and if they did would it be usable? Considering they were only getting one take, they’d better not waste it.

Because they were so far north, the sun started lightening the sky two full hours before it finally showed over the horizon. It was far enough into fall to be chilly, and Jensen was grateful for both Dean’s layers and the heat of Jared’s big furry body beside him. The cameras were filming hopefully as they sat there, but the minutes ticked by and nothing happened, and at last the sun was fully up, it was well past seven, and they had to conclude that the only footage they were getting was a nice long time-lapse of Jensen sitting and watching the sun rise with a tiger.

Jared wasn’t transforming back.

The set started to crawl with morning activity, even after shooting so late. The production manager found them after a while. It turned out that the network had a thaumaturge on retainer for situations like this.

“How many situations like this do you get?” Jensen asked indignantly. “And why didn’t we call them three days ago when this first happened?”

“Because she’s cranky as hell and unbelievably expensive, and most times magic really does resolve itself in the first three days,” he said apologetically. “We don’t like panics spreading, but it seemed like you guys were all having fun and the network was excited to see what you were able to come up with under the circumstances…”

“Jared, do you want me to punch somebody for you?” Jensen interrupted, consideringly.

Jared tilted his head disapprovingly at the production manager, who blanched and stopped talking. Then he heaved a huge sigh and slowly shook his head no.

“Right, well, we can have her here in half an hour,” the guy said hurriedly. “Just sit tight and this will all be resolved soon.” He backed out of the room without quite taking his eyes off of Jared.

* * *

The thaumaturge, when she got there, surpassed even that brief description they had gotten. She got out of a company limo that came to a screeching halt right outside the production offices, stalked up the path wearing a frankly astonishing cross between stilettos and combat boots, and stopped short in front of Jared. She didn’t appear at all intimidated by his size or his teeth.

But after studying him for only a moment, she turned around and addressed the production manager. “Why would you even call me before you’ve exhausted the most basic solutions?” she asked irritably. “This trip has been a waste of my time.” She started to stalk past him back to the limo.

“Wait!” Jensen called. “We’re sorry we didn’t get it. Nothing like this ever happened here before. Can you tell us how to fix it?”

She paused and looked back at him, and her expression softened minutely. “You’re right, this set has been remarkably trouble-free for the time it’s been here,” she said. “It’s a refreshing lack of drama in this business. So I’ll tell you, straight out, it’s the oldest cure in the book. True love’s kiss.”

Then she got in the limo and it peeled out, leaving black tire marks on the pavement and Jensen and Jared standing there stunned speechless.

* * *

Of course they got on a video chat with Gen immediately.

“Jared! You’re still a tiger!” Gen had answered the call quickly. She’d undoubtedly been waiting to hear from them. “Did the thaumaturge come?”

“She did,” Jensen said. “She said we should have guessed the cure. Gen, how ready can you be to fly up here?” Quickly, he explained about why they needed her. “And I don’t even want to think about the hassle it would be to fly Jared down to you — the permits alone —”

“Of course I’ll come,” she said. “Just let me ask Danneel if she can take care of the kids, and I’ll book a flight right away—”

“Awesome,” Jensen said, relieved. “Production said they’d pay for it — they want this resolved sooner rather than later, and I think they were embarrassed they spent more for that thaumaturge to be here for a hot minute than it would have taken to fly you up here in the first place —”

Jared was tapping something out with a paw again, and Gen said warmly, “I know I’m the best, and I love you too.”

“Seriously?” Jensen barked. “Does _everybody_ know Morse code except for me?”

“Oh, I don’t know it,” Gen said. “But I found an app that turns it into a line of text on my phone in real time.”

Jensen groaned and put his head in his hands, and then he said, muffled, “Send me the link.”

“Of course, sweetie,” she said, trying not to laugh as Jared’s tail lashed and he opened his jaws in a grin. _He_ was plainly laughing at Jensen.

“The sooner, the better,” he told Gen. “Tell Danneel I love her.”

“Funny, she just told me to tell you that,” Gen said.

“Then tell her I changed my mind, I love you better,” he teased.

“Good thing I’m flying across the country to be with you, then,” she batted her eyes.

Jared growled, looking mock alarmed. At least, Jensen was pretty sure it wasn’t in earnest; mostly, alarm on a tiger just looked like alarm.

“Aw, don’t worry, Jared,” Gen said. “Here, Jensen, give him a kiss from me.” She kissed the tips of her fingers and then touched them to the screen.

Jensen automatically reached out and caught it on his fingertips, bringing it back to his own lips and if he’d thought about what he was doing, he might never have done it. But all he was thinking was that he was so glad that Jared and Gen and he and Danneel all had each other; everything was going to be fine because they loved each other enough to drop everything to take care of each other.

So when he dropped the kiss on the top of Jared’s big furry head, it was with pure love. Then something like an electric shock ran through him, and Jared startled like he felt it too, and there was a tingling sensation growing and growing in the air. “What’s going on, guys? The picture is breaking up,” Gen was saying from the video feed, but Jensen was busy staring at Jared as he got all blurry around the edges, morphing and shrinking and shedding an unbelievable amount of orange-and-black fur onto the carpet of Jensen’s trailer.

“You didn’t lose your human hair all over the floor when you turned into a tiger!” Jensen said indignantly. “I would have noticed.” Then he noticed something else, and hurriedly went to grab some extra clothes that Jared would be able to fit into.

By the time he was back, Jared was blinking up at him from the floor, his usual long-limbed, floppy-haired human self. “Jensen?”

“Jared!” Jensen knew Jared had been right next to him the whole time, but damn, he’d missed him anyway. He reached out a hand to haul Jared to his feet, and Jared wobbled and nearly fell on him.

“Thank you,” Jared said hoarsely, and threw his arms around Jensen’s neck for a hug.

Jensen breathed out, dropped the clothes he was holding, and hugged Jared back, enjoying the feel of having the world back as it was supposed to be.

At least, until it became physically uncomfortable. “Jared?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t breathe, Jared.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Jared loosened the death-grip he had around Jensen, and thumped him hard on the back, like he thought maybe Jensen needed the Heimlich. Jared was the kind of friend who’d give you a Heimlich whether you needed one or not. “It’s so great to be back on two legs, man!”

Jensen coughed. “Clothes, Jared?”

Jared glanced back at the tablet screen where Gen was still on video, and said, “Oops. Okay. Gen! Did you see? I’m human again!”

“I’m happy for you, honey,” she said. “But sad I’ll never get to pet all that tiger fur. I take it I don’t have to drop everything and fly up there anymore?”

Jensen shook his head fondly as Jared bounded over to the screen, hopping on one leg as he tried to put Jensen’s underwear on. He grabbed the rest of the pile and followed, listening as Jared talked a mile a minute like he had been saving up all the words he couldn’t say for the past three days.

“…And then we got to wrestle, and I totally trashed the set and then we burned it down, and you would not believe how good steaks have been tasting for me, it’s like a whole new world of taste, and we pretty much finished a whole extra episode in record time…”

“Oh, no,” Jensen said. “Everybody’s going be put out they didn’t get to film you changing back.”

“They’ll have to figure something out,” Jared shrugged. “No repeat performances. Anyway, how’re we going to explain what breaks _Sam’s_ curse?”

“They’ve been copying everything else from what happens to us, but…”

“I don’t think ‘true love’s kiss’ is going to fly for the brothers. Not on network television,” Jared finished.

Jensen laughed. “We’ve got good people. They’ll come up with something.” He handed Jared his pants.

There was a knock on the trailer door at the same time as a kid started having a meltdown in the background of Gen’s video, and they bid hurried goodbyes and prepared to go out and upend all the scene-shooting plans for hopefully the last time.

Well. The last tiger-related time. The world was full of magic, apparently.

Not to mention the power of true love. Jensen crossed his fingers. Anything could happen.

 

 ** THE END **

**Author's Note:**

> About the crew characters: I’ve never done RPF before and I didn’t want to assume that just working for a TV show meant people wanted to find their names popping up in cracky fanfic on a google search. So, even when characters are familiar from on-set stories, I’ve erred on the side of caution and left their names out. Consider it a fun exercise for the reader to identify them — actors get all the ~~glory~~ name-recognition in this world!


End file.
